


rummaging for answers in the pages

by ceteiq



Series: "and a place to rest my head" [16]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Brothels, Friendship, Gen, Heart-to-Heart, Jaskier | Dandelion Has a Past, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27961874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceteiq/pseuds/ceteiq
Summary: A ficlet based on my fic "and a place to rest my head," set during chapter 72.Jaskier talks to Netti about his past while Geralt buys dildos.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Original Female Character(s)
Series: "and a place to rest my head" [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719994
Comments: 22
Kudos: 230





	rummaging for answers in the pages

**Author's Note:**

> as i was writing the next chapter of my main fic, i developed a strong urge to write out netti and jaskier's whole conversation, so here it is! i am SO sorry i haven't updated the main fic in so long, but i hope this tides you over a bit, and an update should be coming later this week now that i have this out of the way.
> 
> this is set during [chapter 72](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23097559/chapters/66150070) of my fic. if you don't remember what happened, jaskier and geralt went to buy sex toys at a brothel. while geralt was inside buying the toys, jaskier waited outside and had a conversation with one of the brothel's prostitutes, netti.
> 
> thank you to [kaifukugawa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaifukugawa) for the beta read!
> 
> warnings: discussion of sex work both voluntary and forced, discussion of rape (including underage) and non-con a/b/o bonding, mention of past minor character death, mention of past forced abortions, mentions of past abuse and hunger

It's a brisk spring morning, and Netti is sitting on the bench outside of Stella's, her sketchbook open in her lap as she begins to draw the ramshackle buildings across the road from the brothel. Architecture has never been her strong suit, but practice makes perfect, she figures— and today is her day off, so she'll have plenty of time to practice.

She's just finished mapping out the perspective lines when two men arrive at the brothel. She looks up from her sketch and watches them curiously as they ascend the few stairs that lead to the porch. Judging by their scents, they're bonded, and the younger one is an omega, which is enough to pique Netti's interest on its own. Couples are rare at the brothel, and she's only ever met one omega before in her life. But perhaps more intriguing than all that is that the other man, an alpha, perfectly matches the description she's heard from johns about the _witcher_ who's taken up residence in this town.

The alpha— the witcher— meets her gaze and holds it for a few moments, looking uncomfortable. Then he diverts his golden eyes and twists at the brothel's doorknob. The door doesn't budge, of course, which seems to confuse him greatly.

"You've gotta knock," Netti tells him, amused. "Can't have just anyone barging in, now can we?"

The witcher hums to himself, turns back to the door, and knocks.

Stella answers promptly and greets the two men, inviting them inside.

They enter, and Netti gets back to her drawing. She wonders if any of the girls who are working today will be up for fucking a witcher, or if Stella's gonna have to kick the men out.

When the door reopens after just a few moments, she assumes it was the latter.

But only the omega emerges.

He closes the door behind him and offers Netti a tiny smile, lifting his hand in greeting. "Hi," he says. "I don't mean to interrupt, but I'm just— my mate is buying some, uh, toys. Of the sexual variety. And uh. I'm gonna wait out here. If that's okay."

"It's perfectly fine," says Netti. "Surprise sex toys sound like fun." And she returns her attention to her sketch. 

But it's not long before the omega speaks again. "Are you... a whore, perchance?" he asks.

Netti frowns, unable to tell from his tone what he's getting at. "Yes," she says simply.

"And you aren't, um— no one's keeping you here by force?"

Netti scoffs. "I'm not some weak little girl that someone could hold captive, thank you very much."

"Oh," says the omega. "So... you're working here voluntarily then?"

"Yes, I am," snaps Netti, and finally she sees where this is going. She closes her sketchbook and sets it aside. "I love Stella and the other girls here," she says, "I love sex, and I love money. It's the perfect job. And if you've got a problem with that, with me being a whore by choice, then you can fuck right off, you got that? I don't have time for little pricks who are gonna stand around judging me and my life."

The omega looks taken aback. "No, I'm not judging you," he says. "I swear, that's not it at all. I just— I used to be a whore too. Under rather... uh, different circumstances than yours, it seems."

Netti frowns. "What sort of circumstances?"

The omega shifts his weight from one foot to the other and stares down at the ground. "Grim ones," he says. His voice is deadly serious, and Netti has the sudden impression that she's overstepped.

"It's alright, you don't need to tell me," she says hastily, feeling rather like an ass.

But the omega doesn't seem to hear, just launches into a quiet, earnest explanation. "My parents kicked me out when I was thirteen, as soon as I presented," he says, still staring at the ground. "I had nowhere to go but the streets, and no money, and I, uh— I started whoring myself out. Just to survive, you know?"

Netti nods slowly. She remembers being thirteen, remembers the crush she'd had on the baker's son, remembers getting told off by her stepfather when he'd caught them kissing. The thought of this omega already being a whore when he was that fucking young makes Netti's stomach hurt.

"Then I got pregnant," the omega goes on. "And by the time my baby was due, it was winter, and I knew I needed to get off the streets. Except the only place I could find to stay was this shitty little inn where—" He pauses, takes a deep breath, then continues: "Uh, the innkeeper, his name was Szymon," he says bitterly. "He let me live there with my son, but only if I worked as a whore for him. And I didn't really have any other choice, so... that's what I did. Until finally Geralt— he's the one I came here with, the alpha— uh, he rescued me. But I was a whore there for four and a half years before he showed up."

"Holy shit," breathes Netti. "That's fucking horrible; I don't even..." And then she trails off, because what are you supposed to say to someone who's just divulged so many private, heartbreaking things all at once? She stares at the omega, hoping for some clue as to how to respond, but he just stands there, fidgeting with his fingers, avoiding her eye, looking dreadfully uncomfortable.

"Here," Netti offers at last. "Why don't you sit down?"

The omega lifts his gaze, seeming surprised. But Netti smiles encouragingly, and the omega smiles back— a small, shy little smile. Then he takes a seat beside her on the bench.

"What's your name?" asks Netti.

"Jaskier," says the omega.

"I'm Netti." Netti holds out her hand, and Jaskier shakes it gingerly.

"I'm sorry," he says then, looking away. "That was a lot of tragic backstory to dump on a stranger, and I should have asked first, but I just— I've ever met another prostitute before." He twists his fingers together and gives Netti a tentative, sidelong glance.

"No, it's fine," she tells him quickly. "It's more than fine. I'm honored that you'd tell me something so personal and— and painful, I'm sure."

Jaskier says nothing, just gives an embarrassed sort of shrug. There's a moment of silence.

"How long has it been?" Netti asks then. "Since you left that place?"

"Ten months," says Jaskier immediately, as though he's been counting the days.

"And you're truly okay now, right?"

Jaskier frowns, and Netti amends her question. "I mean— you're safe, at least?"

Jaskier's expression relaxes. "I am," he says. "I couldn't ask for a better mate, or a better life."

"And— I don't mean to pry," Netti says, "but... you said you had a son?"

"I do, yeah," says Jaskier, his face brightening. "He's five. His name is Rian." He pauses, then adds, "I have a daughter too, actually. Elodie. But she's just a baby."

"Your mate's?" asks Netti— thoughtlessly, she realizes a fraction of a second later, when Jaskier's smile falters.

"Not, uh... not technically," he says. "But he's her father for all intents and purposes. And Rian's too. He treats them as his own, you know? Rian calls him Daddy and everything."

Netti nods in understanding. "My father was an abusive drunk," she tells him. "He left when I was six. My stepfather's the one who raised me. He's my dad."

Jaskier shoots her a grateful look. "Exactly," he says. "It's like that."

Netti nods again. "I'm glad I had my stepfather, and I'm glad your children have your mate," she says gently. "And— your son, he's doing alright?"

"Yeah, he is. He's doing great, honestly, considering that the first four years of his life were such utter shit." Jaskier meets Netti's eye for a moment, then looks away. "He never saw anything sexual happening, I made sure of that, but he still... suffered." He sighs. "Szymon would beat him all the time. And he knew I was being hurt every night, even if he didn't know the specifics."

Netti's heart clenches in her chest. "I can't imagine how hard that must have been," she whispers.

"Yeah. For both of us, I reckon," says Jaskier, frowning. "But it's okay. We've got Geralt now, and... Rian is never going to want for anything ever again." He pauses then, and tilts his head to one side. "Have you got any children?"

"Me?" Netti nearly laughs. "Gods, no. I like kids well enough when they're someone else's, but I've got a younger brother and I saw enough poopy diapers for a lifetime when he was a baby."

"Oh," says Jaskier, nodding slowly. "So do you, like... take birth control potion?"

"Every day," Netti says.

"Isn't it expensive?"

"I suppose. I don't know. Stella buys it for us, so I don't think much about the cost."

"Stella's the woman who runs the brothel?"

"Yep. She met you at the door."

Jaskier nods again, his brow furrowed. "And she pays for your birth control potion," he says, sounding incredulous.

"Yeah, I mean, why shouldn't she? She's taking half the money I make."

Jaskier's frown deepens. "She only takes _half_? Do you keep the other half for yourself?"

"Yeah, why? How much did you keep?" asks Netti.

"At Szymon's?" Jaskier lets out a bitter laugh. "None of it. I never saw a single cent."

"Are you serious?"

Jaskier nods.

"That shitty greedy motherfucking bastard," Netti says lowly. "He whored you out and just kept all the money for himself?"

"He did give me room and board," Jaskier shrugs. "Well... sort of. The board portion was a bit lacking sometimes, but—"

"What, he didn't feed you?"

"Not when he was angry," mumbles Jaskier.

"And I'm guessing he was angry quite often," says Netti grimly.

Jaskier nods. "I don't think Rian even knew what a full stomach _felt_ like until we met Geralt," he murmurs.

Netti feels her muscles tense in rage. "Gods, this Szymon wasn't just an asshole; he was like some kind of fucking sadist, wasn't he?" she spits out. "Starving you and your kid, keeping all your earnings for himself... Next you'll tell me he kept you shackled to a bed or something."

"Well, not shackled," says Jaskier. "But he didn't let me leave. Or rather, I was free to leave if I ever wanted to, but he made it clear that as soon as I stepped foot outside the inn, he'd never let me come back. And he had me convinced that he was the only person on the continent who'd be willing to help me, so... I stayed."

"Hells below, Jaskier," says Netti. "What you did doesn't even sound like prostitution. It sounds like fucking slavery." She draws in an angry breath and lets it out shortly. "Prostitution is— I mean, at its best, it's like getting paid to eat cake. And at its worst it's like being paid to eat garbage. But in both cases, you still agree to eat it. You still have a choice."

Jaskier stares into his lap. "I had a choice too," he says. "When I was on the streets, I'd practically beg people to fuck me."

"A choice between doing something or dying isn't a fucking choice," Netti tells him. "With you it was like— like someone giving you garbage to eat after starving you for a month. Or someone holding a knife to your throat and telling you to eat the garbage or else. You were forced into it."

Jaskier shoots her a glance, his brow furrowed. "But don't you feel forced into it too, at least sometimes?" he asks. "I mean maybe you're working here willingly, but aren't there ever times you have to do things you don't want to?"

"No," says Netti firmly. "I don't always enjoy it maybe, but I'm never forced into it."

"What about... bad customers?" Jaskier asks. "The ones who want to hurt you."

"Well, Stella's a damn good judge of character," Netti tells him. "She turns away anyone who seems like a threat. Plus there are rules— they've gotta leave their weapons at the door, they've gotta be sober enough to walk straight. And even if Stella approves of them, we're still allowed to say no if we want." She pauses briefly. "Of course sometimes bad apples still make it upstairs. But all we've gotta do then is scream if we feel threatened, and Stella's mate Jakob takes care of it."

"She's got a mate?"

"Yeah, a real massive guy, and an alpha too, like Stella. Sweet as can be to her and us girls, but terrifying as fuck to the customers."

"Oh," Jaskier mumbles.

Netti sighs. "Let me guess, that fuckhead Szymon never stepped in when things got nasty?"

"Never."

"Fuck him," Netti says.

Jaskier nods. They sit there in silence for a few moments.

Then Jaskier asks, his voice barely above a whisper, "So you've never been, like... raped?"

Netti holds out her hand, and Jaskier takes it tentatively. Netti gives his fingers a little squeeze. "No," she says. "I've never been raped. I've been kissed when I didn't want to be, and touched a bit more roughly than I was comfortable with, but Jakob always stepped in before things went too far."

"What about, uh. Being bonded?"

"Yeah, I've had a few clients try to bite me," says Netti, shivering at the memory, "but never long enough for the mark to actually take. I always just screamed for Jakob and he put a stop to that shit."

Jaskier says nothing, and Netti squeezes his hand again. "I take it you were bonded against your will?" she guesses quietly.

"Quite a few times, yeah."

"I hear it's awful."

"It is."

Netti nods sadly, and Jaskier gives her a weak smile.

"But hey, on the plus side," he says, "the bond reversal potion took about a day to fully work, and I didn't have to fuck any customers during that time. So it was nice to get a day off once in a while, at least."

"Jaskier. I get a day off every week, at minimum. Usually two or three days," says Netti, horrified. "Was that the only time he gave you a fucking break?"

Immediately, Jaskier's expression shifts into something closed off and haunted. "Um, no," he says. "Whenever I got pregnant— which was every time I had a heat— Szymon would make me drink an abortion potion. And, uh, he gave me those days off from work too. While the abortion was happening."

Netti feels a chill run through her. "He'd _make_ you?" she repeats in a whisper. "It wasn't something you wanted?"

"I mean, in retrospect, it was probably for the best that I only had one baby to take care of," says Jaskier, his voice hollow. "But no. I didn't want the abortions." 

It sounds like an understatement, the way he says it.

"Fucking shit," breathes Netti. "Jaskier, I am so sorry. So, so fucking sorry. I can't even— I don't— fucking—" She's so angry she can barely get the words out. "Tell me where Szymon is now," she says finally, "and I'm gonna go kill him with my bare hands, I swear to all the gods." And in that moment, she really, truly means it.

But Jaskier shakes his head. "It's alright," he says. "I mean, I do appreciate the offer. But he's already dead. Geralt killed him. Slit his throat."

"That's all? He didn't dismember limb by limb while he fucking screamed for mercy?" fumes Netti. "He treated you like shit, Jaskier. You weren't a person to him, you were a fucking _thing_ , a thing he got off on torturing, and—" She inhales sharply. "And you were thirteen years old, for fuck's sake! A _child_!"

"I was fourteen by the time I met Szymon," mutters Jaskier.

"Same fucking thing!" cries Netti. "You know Stella doesn't hire anyone younger than nineteen? When a girl younger than that comes to the brothel, she tells them to come back in a few years if they're still interested, but in the meantime she finds them somewhere safe to live, some other way to make money, and she visits them to make sure they're doing alright, and— Fuck, Jaskier. Kids aren't supposed to be whores. And even if you had been older, being a whore is different from being a sex slave. Prostitution is just a job, like— like being a fucking candlestick maker or something. You're supposed to get _paid_ , you're supposed to get time off, you're supposed to have independence and choices, and— and— Gods, I'm just so fucking _angry_ for you," she concludes furiously. She feels tears stinging her eyes.

And Jaskier just sits there, apparently stunned by her outburst.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," says Netti after a moment, deflating somewhat. "I'm sure you don't need to be reminded of the shit you went through, let alone have it rubbed in your face how great Stella is compared to Szymon."

"No, no, I appreciate it," Jaskier says. "It's nice to get confirmation that—" He shrugs. "That there are whores who aren't just constantly raped and abused, you know? I mean— Geralt and I have talked about it before, about how he's visited brothels, and he told me that all the whores he fucked were willing participants, and that most brothels are nothing like Szymon's inn. But it's different to discuss it with an actual fellow whore, you know?" He glances up from his lap. "Like, that metaphor about eating garbage, about it not being my choice... it felt like a weight lifted off my chest, to hear that."

"Oh," says Netti softly.

"And knowing that Stella helps girls who come to her just because they're desperate— that not every kid in a shitty situation has to do what I did to survive— it makes me so glad."

"Me too," says Netti. She smiles a little, and Jaskier smiles back. 

And his expression is so soft, so sad and happy at the same time, that Netti instinctively opens her sketchbook to draw it. No sooner has she begun to sketch the outline of Jaskier's head than he leans in curiously.

"What are you drawing?"

"It's a secret; no peeking," says Netti, angling the sketchbook away from him. "I never show my work to anyone before it's finished."

"Fair enough," Jaskier tells her cheerfully. "Though I can't say I relate. When I write songs, I'm always pestering Geralt with half-finished verses, asking for advice on rhymes."

"You write songs?" Netti asks, intrigued.

"I do. And I play the lute. I fancy myself to be one of the finest bards in all the land, truth be told," he says, with a wink, but it sounds like he's only half joking.

"I'd love to hear you play," says Netti.

"Ah, and I'd love to see your art." Jaskier clasps his hands together in entreaty. "Please? Pretty please?"

"Oh _fine_ , since you asked so very nicely," laughs Netti. She pulls out some doodle-covered sheets of parchment that she keeps in the back of her sketchbook and hands them over to him.

His jaw drops immediately. "Netti, these are fucking incredible!" he exclaims, leafing through the papers.

Netti blushes and looks away, focusing on her sketch of Jaskier's face. "I'm flattered," she says. "Though the stuff on those pages is pretty old. I think I've improved a lot since then."

"Then fuck, I can't imagine how good you must be now," says Jaskier.

Netti just shrugs shyly and works on sketching in Jaskier's nose.

"You know, my son likes to draw too," Jaskier says after a moment. "Maybe you could come visit our cottage sometime and do a bit of art with him. Give him some tips or something."

Netti glances up.

"But only if you want to," Jaskier adds quickly. "I completely understand if watching a five-year-old draw stick-figures isn't your cup of tea."

"Hey, no, I'd love to!" says Netti. "I'd love to meet Rian. And Elodie, also."

Jaskier beams.

"And—" Netti hesitates. "Maybe you can come back here, too. Meet Stella properly, and meet the other girls. I mean, fair warning," she adds, rolling her eyes good-naturedly, "Zia will no doubt bake you an entire pastry shop. And Martyne will make you listen to all her terrible jokes. And Calla will probably try to mother you to death." She pauses. "But still. I think you'd really like them."

"I think I would too," says Jaskier, smiling.

And when Netti sketches that smile, it lights up the whole page.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! i am rather fond of netti and i hope you are too. let me know your thoughts in a comment!
> 
> and thank you for your patience! <3


End file.
